The Ghost of Glee's Past
by MirMir eats chocolate
Summary: This story is about what the children of the glee club at McKinley High were like in their childhood.  Did Tina even LIKE music back then? Was Rachel EVER nice? Who knows?
1. Kurt

**Before I start my story, I'd like to say that I'm really glad about all the readers who have liked and hated my stories. You're helping them get better. I also just want to let you know that there WILL be another glee fan fiction coming soon. It will possibly be a crossover story with Percy Jackson and the Olympians. If any of you guys think that it's a terrible idea to make it a crossover, just write it in a review. That's pretty much it. ENJOY!**

**PART ONE: KURT**

I walked down the sidewalk of my school to get to the parking lot where my dad would pick me up. Normally, I'd be riding the bus, but the other kids always found a way to ruin my jacket. My favorite designer, Chad Jacobs, would be very disappointed that some children don't even care about style.

Someday, when I'm not eight anymore and I get out of here, I'll be able to astonish the fashion industry with my incredible designs and amazing eye for color. My outfit will be the most popular type of clothing in the world, and my name will be the most well known name in the world.

I smiled at the thought of my style empire, and opened the door to my father's SUV.

"How was school buddy?" My dad smiled at me from under his usual baseball cap, and ruffled my hair as I stepped inside the car.

I didn't really know what to say. I could say that I fixed a teacher's suit today, or that I had plans to take over the world with fashion. "Good," I decided on the generic reply. I always do. That way it's easier to stop the meetings he has with my teachers to stop the bullying, and pretty much everything else. After four years of school, I learned the hard way that it's easier to keep your mouth closed. I sighed, buckled my seat belt, and looked out the window as the trees and houses passed by, considering who would be willing to get a makeover.

I remembered how mom would have willingly volunteered right away to be my mannequin. She would've smiled when I asked which lipstick color went best with her eyes. Her perfume would've filled my nose and I would've become inspired to theme her makeup around that, and when I had finished she would've stood in front of the mirror and hugged me. It was like my version of heaven, except I didn't have to die to get there.

Only then did I realize that I was crying with the tiny little droplets of water falling down my cheeks. I sniffled quietly, and hoped that my dad hadn't noticed my sadness. I wiped away the salty tears, and blinked like a pro. I closed my eyes and let my imagination take over my mind. I still missed her. She would always be able to help me with anything whether it was the way I used to ride my bike with the brakes on or the way I used to fall on my face if there was an icy patch on the sidewalk. I wished I could go back in time and save her. The world was being mean to me, and I haven't done anything back, but the world better watch out because it just declared war on the most dangerous thing ever: the eight year old.

I realized that the car had stopped moving. I opened the door and stepped out. I hope that I hadn't been in there crying for too long. My dad might've noticed. I blinked twice and hoped that he hadn't. I was under enough emotional pressure already. I don't have time for another trip back to school; I had a world to deal with.

I walked in my front door and took my backpack to my room, then I did what I always do when I'm thinking about my mom; I went to her empty dresser. It was still full of the scent of her favorite perfume that she always had worn. I opened up every other wooden drawer and lie down on the green carpet right next to her bed. I smelled in that nice mother smell and for the first time today I smiled.

The door opened, and in walked mom with her brown eyes and freckles and her white teeth smiling at me as she spoke her favorite words of wisdom. "Follow your dream and do what you want to do. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't." She winked one time before she disappeared and I woke up on the floor. I should've realized that it was a dream. It was too amazing to be real life. I really didn't feel to good right now, but I did feel better than when I came in here. I had finally stopped crying.

I pushed in the drawers so that mom's perfume scent would stay in there, and walked out to my room. It was time to restart to the part before I started crying. That way I could calm down. I was going to follow my dream. It was time to get started.

**Thanks for reading! Please review my story! The next chapter will be coming up soon! Part two will be tina, so this will be interesting. Anyway, thanks a ton, and I hope you liked it!**


	2. Tina

**Just so you know, there will be tons of chapters to this story, but in order to get out so many they will all be fairly short like the first one. I just wanted to tell you that for those who might assume that my chapters will increase in size as they did with my other stories. Anyway, that's pretty much it. Enjoy!**

**PART TWO: TINA**

I re-checked my report nervously with a careful eye to find mistakes. You only go through fourth grade once. I might as well get the best grades that I could. It's not like I was going to really make any friends. The only way I was going to have a life when I leave this place was if I pay attention in school. I just hate it when my teacher makes us read our essays in front of the whole class. We have to deal with stage fright AND all the mistakes we made in our paper.

I had to come up with some kind of excuse. I was next up to read my report, and I really didn't feel like being the laughing stalk of the day. What was I going to do? I had no way of stopping the teacher. I finally realized that the talking had stopped, and my teacher was staring at me intensely like mad scientists do in movies.

"You're up." I could swear that sometimes he reminded me of the principal in Matilda.

"I… I c-can't." the sound was so feeble that I could hardly believe that it was coming out of my mouth. Then I realized that the can't made it sound like I had a…. "I have a s-stutter" it wasn't perfect, but it was believable. I suppose I had time to work on it.

"Well then, I guess that Jenny's up next to read." He turned and hunted his new prey.

I let out a sigh of relief, but was careful not to make it too loud because the teacher would hear, and then he just might make me read anyway. It was kind of like a police interrogation; anything you say can and will be used against you. I resisted the urge to lay my head on my desk and fall asleep. I was at enough of a risk already. I did not need to add on to that.

At least it was the last class of the day. It should help me to be able to leave. I just can't seem to find a way out of the fact that now everyone thinks I have a stutter. There was no back door. My palms started sweating, and my heel started tapping on the floor the way it does when I'm nervous. Seconds were now hours and minutes were days. I wouldn't hold up for much longer.

Just when it seemed like I was about to explode, class was interrupted by a knock at the door. The explosion fizzled out but did not go away entirely. My teacher opened the door, and sitting there was a boy in a wheelchair. He had brown hair and Brown eyes, and looked so embarrassed that he might want to be here even less than I do. It made me wonder why he was even embarrassed at all. He didn't do anything strange or weird at all; he had a completely clean slate. I envied him.

"This is our new student Artie. He's from Columbus. Be nice." The kid looked nice enough, and nobody even seemed to care that he was in a wheelchair, especially not me. "Tina, you show him around tomorrow and be his tour guide." All I did was nod. I was too worried that I might accidentally confess to something if I opened my mouth. I was glad to have somebody who would willingly be seen with me around school.

The bell rang and we were dismissed from class. Sweet freedom. I thought about Artie on the way home, and realized that for the first time in a while I had something to look forward to that didn't involve stealing cookies for breakfast.

That night I followed my normal routine. I stayed in my room for a while until it was time for dinner, and went back to my room afterwards, but that night when I was trying to sleep, I kept thinking about the kid in the wheelchair, and I wondered how he must feel being the new kid that I never would be. I sighed, and shut my eyes tighter.

I woke up in the morning so tired that I was surprised I didn't have black circles around my eyes. I guessed that I fell asleep at around 3 AM last night. I was going to take the new kid around for a tour during class, so maybe he'll be nice enough to let me stop at the water fountains (especially the cold one by the gym) and wake myself up. I hoped he would be. He didn't look like much of a jerk.

The school tour wasn't as short as I thought it might be. Artie and I kept going places in all the wrong order so that we'd get to miss as much class as possible. I remember rolling him down the hall in his wheel chair, as we both discovered that we liked practically all of the same things.

We both loved to steal cookies, learn cool tricks on things with wheels, and we both hadn't really found our own style yet. It was nice to have a friend.

**Thanks for reading my story! Please review!**


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